Strictly Professional
by LiveLoveLaugh14
Summary: My name is Hermione Granger but soon, because of a goddamn prophecy, I shall become Mrs Hermione Draco Malfoy. Er, no. That's not a good thing. Well, I don't CARE if you think Malfoy is sexy. Oh, fact, shmact. Speaking of; don't ever look at my husband.
1. Good Lord

_Hello, hello. So this is another one of those marriage law fics. Don't you just love reading them? I hope everyone who reads this likes it! _

_Yours truly,_  
_- LiveLoveLaugh._

* * *

.Chapter 1 - Good Lord.

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

What was that now? Three hundred and twenty seven ticks? ...Or were they _tocks_? How would you differentiate between the_ ticking _and the _tocking _sounds a clock made? ...I should really write these questions down somewhere.

"Granger?"

That voice was shockingly familiar. A kind of deep, manly voice laced with mock...

Oh,_ shit. _

I looked up from my book to see none other than Draco – sodding – Malfoy standing above me. I was pretty sure my jaw dropped to the floor as I took in the sight of him.

My first thought, and I'm not going to lie, was: _Christ in Heaven, God Almighty, he's bloody gorgeous._

His spotless face had become more chiselled and angular over the years. His eyes, an almost translucent shade of grey in the light, had lost the odd mixture of sadness and anger I distinctly remembered were within them. His face had attained some colour which made him seem more human than ever before and his lips seemed fuller, as they were not the thin, pale lips permenantly fixed into a scowl. His now completely greaseless hair hung in straight, soft-looking strands messily around his head with some locks falling over his eyes. The brown hair with complimentary copper highlights here and there, made him look like a fucking male model from heaven-

Woah-wo-woah, _pause._

_Rewind:_ .nevaeh morf ledom elam gnikcuf a ekil kool mih edam, ereht dna ereh sthgilhgih reppoc emos htiw riah nworb ehT

_Playback:_ "The brown hair with some copper highlights here and there, made him look like a fucking male model from heaven."

Brown hair? Copper highlights? What the heck? When did that happen? A Malfoy had actually dyed his hair. There was no platinum blonde to be seen for miles. He looked normal - well, he looked beyond hot, but you know what I mean, - like a muggle.

My eyes travelled down his form not-so-subtly. Hey, I was in shock, _sorry_ for not being discrete with my staring. He was wearing a fashionable, slick black blazer with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, over a white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Instead of suit pants, he wore dark jeans held up with a leather belt.

He looked just like the people he'd always despised. "A bloody muggle" as he would say.

He raised an eyebrow at me, bringing me out of my trance. "Or is it a _Weasley_ who's checking me out?"

I glared at him and stood, after stuffing my book into my bag. "It's always been Granger." I said coolly and then ruined it by adding hastily, "And I was _not_ checking you out."

Lies. We both knew it.

He was taller than me but I'd also grown, so I didn't seem completely dwarfish in front of him. He smirked, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. "Still the stubborn bookworm, I see."

How dare he? So what if it was true? He had no right to point it out like that. I glared at him but before I could retort, our names were called into the Minister's office. I had no idea why in the world we were both called in, but I'd been waiting for half an hour, so all I wanted to do was to get this over with, go home and curl up with a good book and a cup of tea.

Gosh, my life was lame.

I glared at the still smirking Malfoy before shouldering my bag and side-stepping him so I didn't have to see his God-gifted face anymore.

"Oh good, you're both here." The Minister of Magic greeted us, and then gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. I took my seat after pushing it away from the other one. Malfoy smirked as he slid the chair close once again and sat in it. Shacklebolt's face looked strained and drained of colour, there were rings under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in a while. He opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a couple of rolled-up scrolls tied together with a red ribbon. He untied it before spreading one of the parchments with his palms.

He looked up at us. "I have some...interesting news." He smiled weakly.

I nodded as Malfoy leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, bored as usual. He hadn't changed a bit, had he?

Shacklebolt took a deep breath before starting. "There is a prophecy. It declares the marriage of the Malfoy heir, to a muggleborn witch who played a big part in the Wizarding War." He looked pointedly at us. "And before you ask, I've narrowed the possibilities of the muggleborn witch to one which is your age, unmarried, and played the biggest part a female played in the war; Miss Granger."

WHAT.

My mouth was suddenly dry. I tried to speak, to call him out as mental but my throat closed up on me. Before I knew it, I was jumping to my feet, yelling mindlessly. I glanced at Draco who was standing too, shouting next to me.

And a flurry of shouts filled the room.

"Are you fucking crazy!"

"This is a joke right? Please, God Almighty, let this be a joke!"

"I am _not_ marrying the Mudblood Gryffindor!"

"As if I want to marry you, dickhead!"

"Technically, honestly, you two don't really have...a choice."

"WHAT?"

"Fuck you Shacklebolt!"

"This is not happening!" I stuck my fingers in my ears just as Shacklebolt opened his mouth. "Lalalala! I'm not listening!"

"Miss Granger, I don't actually have a choice either."

"And there's no way to get out of it?" I tried to reason with him.

"Believe me, I've tried. I've looked over all possible loopholes and read the prophecy at least seventy five times. There's nothing."

"Screw you."

"Mr Malfoy, I understand your shock, but it's out of all of our hands."

"Good God, where's my wand when I need it!" He was patting his pockets, in search of his wand.

"Wait!" He held up his hands desperately. "Before you two make any rational decisions, I must tell you – if you don't agree to this and marry within the next few weeks, you'll...well...die."

WHAT.

Malfoy looked as if he was about to stab Shacklebolt repeatedly. He spoke with a low deadly voice. "You know, that paperweight on your desk looks pretty good to bash your head on."

Shacklebolt glugged down the glass of water by his hand.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." I said all in one breath, slowly lowering myself down to the seat. My life was over. Okay, fine, that was teenage Hermione speaking, but she did get all Os on her N.E.W.T.S.

My head was spinning, spinning so fast that I felt dizzy and slightly sick. I couldn't breathe properly and everything seemed blurry, unfocused.

"Can I - can I go get some water from outside, please?" I said a little breathlessly. More like, _Can I _go freak out in the corridor, please?

Shacklebolt smiled at me weakly. "I'll just have it sent in, Miss Granger. I'd like to discuss this prophecy further, as-."

"- Can I go get some FUCKING water OUTSIDE, _PLEASE_?" I yelled, standing up.

Kingsley swallowed loudly. "Of course, Miss Granger, take your time."

I looked at Draco, who was running a hand through his hair. "_Coming_, Malfoy?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. How was he so calm? "I think I'd rather freak out in here, thank you."

Twat. I wasn't in the mood for a _no_, so I walked up to him, grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of there with a death grip.

As soon as we were outside, I dropped his hand and leaned against the opposite wall in the corridor. I buried my face into my hands, trying not to spaz out.

"Granger?" I heard him say, to which I didn't say anything. "Granger, stop freaking out."

I dropped my hands. "Stop freaking out? How am I not supposed to freak out? He wants us to get married, Malfoy! Married!"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, effectively ruffling it up. He seemed to do that whenever he was stressed. "Yeah, I was there." I rolled my eyes at the sarcastic spaz. You know, if I wasn't so shocked, I'd reward myself for such quick alliteration.

"What are we going to _do_?"

"You still with Weasley?" He asked casually, answering my question with a random question.

I was caught off guard. I tilted my head slightly. "Uh, _no_." I shook my head, and scoffed. "We were 'together' – if that's even what it was – for no more than a month. And half of that time, I was avoiding him."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. I raised my eyebrows at him. "What about you, huh? Mr Brown hair, grey eyes? I bet girls just throw themselves at you."

"I'm single by choice - obviously." He smirked. I rolled my eyes. I saw him sigh once again. "You want to hear Shacklebolt out, before we barge out of here and die?"

I couldn't help but smile. "I guess."

* * *

When I went back in and sat down, I was calmer, cooler, more collected.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN BY _WE DIE_?"

I heard Malfoy snicker beside me.

"How about we start from the beginning, hmm Miss Granger? Mr Malfoy?" Shacklebolt smiled encouragingly. I wanted to smack him.

"I came across this prophecy three or so days back. It's pretty specific for a law written thousands of years ago, if I say so myself. Like I said before, it states the marital relationship of you two. It says the relationship must be binding within weeks before your twenty fourth birthdays. I did some research and it seems as if Mr Malfoy has already turned twenty four, and Miss Granger will be so in two weeks' time. If within these two weeks, you two do not get married, you'll – not technically die on the spot – but you'd be cursed. And that's in wizarding terms."

*Gasp Mentally* Cursed? That ensures death within a few hours or so.

"Which as we all know, means that death won't be long away. But that's not all. This prophecy also, very specifically tells us that the first child you will produce, will be the most powerful wizard since...well, I guess since Harry Potter. Though, if either of you two decide to have a baby with someone other than either of you two ever, it will result in the evillest wizard to be born since...Voldemort." He rubbed his temples as if he was the one in the predicament.

"So you honestly expect us to just get married like that?" I asked incredulously.

"Technically, you have today to get to know each other a little bit more, but yes."

"What do you expect us to do for today, then?" Malfoy asked with a voice as cold as ice.

Kingsley laced his fingers together on his desk. "We hope that you will go over to help Miss Granger pack since she'll be moving into your house by tomorrow."

Gosh, I wanted to bash some heads. That paperweight DID look like a good weapon.

"I'd really appreciate it if you apparate now."

"Oh you'd appreciate that would you?" I almost yelled before standing. "Well, I think we'd like to make this as awkward for you as possible. Right, Malfoy?"

He stood and slid his hands into his pockets. "Oh, definitely."

Take that, you wannabe matchmaker from hell!

After five long minutes of staring down the Minister of Magic in awkward silence, we apparated to my place.

So much for curling up with a good book.

Oh, no no no. I was way too crazy for that. I was marry-because-of-a-fucking-prophecy-to-the-person-I've-always-hated-otherwise-DIE- _crazy._

Then it hit me. I was going to marry a Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

I was going to become Mrs Hermione Malfoy.

Mrs Hermione Draco Malfoy.

Good Lord.

* * *

_Review, pweeeeeeeeez. :)_


	2. Confessions of a Bookworm Gryffindor

_Hey, again. _

_Wow, I'm pleasantly surprised at the response I've gotten. So many of you, and I mean SO MANY have subscribed or favourite-d - or both - this story. Thank you so much. Keep in tuned. ;) Oh, and if you want to see the Malfoy hair - in this story - just type in "Tom Felton brown hair" into Google and voila. Hotness. _

_And to the awesome reviewers: Thank you LOADS. Every single one of your reviews made me :') and squuueeee at my screen. I'm really glad that some of you have already started loving this story. I love that all of you have found it so funny and promising. Keep reading and reviewing. _  
_Thanks again to; _**_Candymydarling, SerpentofDarkness, MadalaineMalfoy, Calimocho, l0stinl0ve, CajunWitch, Cupidity, Indigo Grey, chocolate is a way of life, Oyako-sama, sbqhamil, ObsydianDreamer and efeliMalfoy._ **

_Read&Review. _

_- LiveLoveLaugh. _

* * *

.Chapter 2 - Confessions of a Bookworm Gryffindor.

"Quite a squeaky-clean, little shit hole you've got here,"

_Thwack! _

Confession 1 of the day which I was never going to say out loud: He was right.

After fulfilling my need to vent my anger out on the Malfoy's arm, and then putting my bag on the chair, I made my way across my small studio apartment into my room, where I sat on my bed for a good two seconds before lying back on the purple blanket. I rubbed my face with my hands and sighed heavily.

I heard Malfoy knock lightly on the door twice, before he murmured an "I said clean, and little. Little's always good." His voice was cautious, as if he was expecting a Niagara Tears any moment now.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Okay, I didn't. But, I'm promising it now.

Though I doubt I'd cry if I wanted to. Logically, this – compared to my life so far, – is the most exciting thing I've encountered. Emotionally, I wanted to scream bloody murder; marrying your high school enemy wasn't a walk in the flowery, sunny park, you know.

Oh, you _don't_ know? Well, screw you then, it was a rhetorical question...statement, whatever.

"Are you dead?" He asked nonchalantly.

I slid my hands down from my face, and sat up slightly, my lower arms supporting me on the bed. I glared at the idiot leaning against my doorframe. "No, but I appreciate how terribly concerned you are."

"Nothing _but _concerned," He smirked.

I sat up completely and stared at him. "How in the world, are you so calm about this?"

He shrugged, "Are you going to offer me some tea anytime soon, or what?"

After rolling my eyes, I walked past him into the kitchen, where I flicked the kettle on. With a few clinks, I grabbed two mugs from the top cabinet, the almost empty box of PG Tips and the sugar container my mum sent me for Easter. I felt my breakfast come up to my throat when I glanced at the flowery, cheery print with the stupid "Bringing sweetness into your life," slogan pasted across the front.

After finishing my tea to a perfection, I turned back to face him once again, and slid his cup across the counter. He smirked, grabbed a stool and took a seat on the other side of the bench. I cupped my hands around the mug and sipped. "God, I needed that." I whispered into the steam.

Malfoy sipped some too, before looking around the apartment, taking in the countless stacks of books around the shelves, atop the tables, placed on windowsills and even some lodged in between sofa cushions. "Wow." He breathed, looking amused.

"Don't start." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I didn't say anything." He smirked.

Confession 2 of the day: His smirk was sexy. Not good sexy, of course. Yes, there is a bad sexy. What does it look like? Like Malfoy's smirk, duh.

"This is good." He glanced down at the cup in his hands and back up at me. I was sure a blush crept up my neck about then.

"Thanks." I said softly. I drank some of tea before setting the cup down and looking at him. "I'm going to try again. How are you so calm about us getting married?"

"You're a persistent one, aren't you?" He ran a hand through his hair almost reflexively.

Confession 3 of the day: I wanted my hand to be the hand running through his silky locks...So I could yank it all out, of course. Well, I don't _care_ if you think it's sexy hair. Who asked you, anyway?

He looked straight at me and I felt myself heating up all of a sudden. Must have been the tea."I don't know, Granger. I think...I think I'm quite glad it's you I'm marrying at gunpoint; and not some ditsy I want to throttle every time she opens her mouth." He admitted.

Confession 4 of the day: My heart went on super overdrive. What's super overdrive, you ask? The beating of my heart at this moment, I answer.

I grinned, trying to mask my fast, hard breaths caused by my now fast, hard heartbeats, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. What? That was not flirting. I was merely tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. "You don't want to throttle me every time I open my mouth?"

He sipped his tea, but I was sure I saw him smiling. "Not if you keep making me tea."

And damn it to hell, I laughed.

* * *

Sweet Jesus, I had_ a lot _of books.

I was sitting on the floor, one of my suitcases open out in front of me on the carpet. With Malfoy lounging on the sofa, flicking through my books, I tried to pack every single one of them up. Every minute or so, Malfoy would toss a book in my direction, commenting on its "Shite-ness" and rating it on a "Shite factor of _shite_ to _absolutely, pure shite_."

Confession 5 of the day: It was funny. He was funny. But, no. I wouldn't laugh. Not twice in one day; and definately not because of him again.

He chucked a small one at my head. "Bollocks," He commented as he did so. Ah, he had a new rating factor.

I rubbed on the spot it bounced off and flipped him the finger.

He winked at me, and then skimmed through another one of my books.

Confession 6 of the day: He was sexy as fuck. No comment after that.

After grabbing the book he threw at me, I placed it onto the neatly arranged pile of books in my suitcase. Or should I say bookcase? Yeah, I shouldn't. I noticed my suitcase was nearly full, so I looked around, only to see that the only book in the room was in Draco's hands.

He chose that moment to fling it into the case, messing up my organised piles - which I spent nearly an hour on - in two seconds flat. They were categorised! By genre and author and size! Giving up, I just stuffed them all back into the red suitcase and zipped it up.

"I can't believe I'm packing to go live with you." I sneered at him as he got up and lifted by suitcase and placed it by the door.

* * *

"Keep it."

"Really? You want to keep _this_?"

I looked at him, and then at the box in his hands. "Shut up and do it."

"We're not married yet, you know. I still have _some say_ over things." He grinned up at me.

I looked back at the cabinet I was cleaning out, hiding my smile in the shadows. I was pretty sure the step ladder I was on beyond flimsy, but it'd have to do. Besides, falling off it meant giving Malfoy something else to laugh at and mock me for.

I pulled out the last item from the top cabinet and inspected it. It was a christmas present from my dear, dear aunt; a colourful, spotty punch bowl which, judging by it's appearance and material, was about twenty pence. It was the thought that counted, right?

"Bin it." I told Draco, without thinking twice about it. A thought wasn't enough to take with me to...wherever it was that I was going. Speaking of which... "Where do you live?" I asked him as I closed the last top cupboard.

"Merlin Granger, you have a lot of questions." He told me, taping up the box and putting it with all the others.

"How about you answer one, then?" I stepped down onto firm ground and let out a sigh of relief.

He gave me a half smile. "How about you stop asking?"

Confession 7: I liked it when he smiled. It proved that he wasn't all that inhumane.

I crossed my arms. "You really think that's going to happen?"

"I think it was worth a try."

I was amused.

"Muggle London." He informed me after a while. "Central." That must have cost a bucketload. I guess Malfoy inheritance was a large sum enough.

"Huh. I'd have thought you were still in Malfoy Manor." I said softly, quite confused. "Why'd you leave?"

He sighed, leaning back against the counter. "I hated that place. It was big and ugly, and I suspect it was haunted."

"What about your family? Your dad? Your-" I blurted out question after question.

"That's enough." He snapped, thoroughly pissed off. "I'm through playing twenty questions."

"...I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I mean, I didn't know how-I really-" My babbling lips were cut off by Malfoy placing two fingers on them. My lips were slightly parted, and his fingers were cool on the plump skin. Cool and soft. Softer than I'd expected. Not that I expected anything.

"Shut up," He whispered, and within seconds his face was inches from mine. Slowly, yet gently, he slid his fingers down my lips and brought his hand back to his side, where he clenched it into a fist.

Confession 8: I thought he was going to kiss me. Thought, not wanted. Stop trying to twist my thoughts into something romantic and wanton, okay?

But, thankfully of course, he didn't. He pulled back swiftly, grabbed and uncapped a permenant marker and started writing on the boxes. _Box of Crap #1. Box of Crap #2. Box of Crap #3._

* * *

"Granger?"

"Hmm?" I replied absently, folding up yet another sweater and neatly placing it in my clothes suitcase.

"You have terrible taste in clothing."

"I do not!" I protested instantly, looking up at him as I zipped the last bag closed.

"You have a dozen sweaters, none aesthetically pleasing, and a handful of jeans, also none aesthetically pleasing." That was _not_ true. I had a few nice dresses, and some skirts, even a few fashionable tops. I just haven't had time to go shopping lately. That, and I didn't shit out money like some people. "Okay, seriously, I'm knakhered."

I stood up and dusted my jeans off before trying to pull the suitcase to a standing position, yelping, "_You're_ knakhered? You didn't _do _anything."

I felt Malfoy take the suitcase from my hands and set it by the wall. At least he was a gentleman. He faced me. "I'm knakhered and I'm starving. And it's almost eight." He took out his phone, tapped it a few times, and without looking back up at me, he told me, "Go get changed. We're going out for dinner."

Confession 9 of the day: I was smiling on the inside. Widely.

My hands automatically went to my hips. "And, when did you get to decide my dinner plans? For all you know, I might be busy."

"Are you?"

"...No."

"Well." The corners of his lips twitched upwards, as if he was trying to surpress a smile.

"Shut up."

"Come out in five minutes." He said before pulling the door closed after him.

Ugh. Men.

I opened the second of the clothes cases, and pulled out my favourite dress. A black, sleeveless dress with a V-neck. The skirt reached just above my knees. The fabric was printed with large cream, peach, pale pink and a few white coloured flowers on the skirt, and near my right shoulder. It was belted with a brown leather belt, and there were buttons from the bottom of the V-neck to the top of the belt. I grabbed my tan coloured shoes and pulled my messy hair up into a ponytail. After grabbing my coat, I exited my room and walked right past Malfoy to shoulder my bag from its previous position on my chair.

I turned back to him, taking my phone out and pretending to check my messages. "You coming?" I asked nonchalantly, even though my heart was beating erratically fast.

When I didn't get a response within the next twenty seconds, I looked up at him. He was staring at me, his eyes roaming everywhere, sending heat through me. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes wide.

Confession 10 of a Bookworm Gryffindor: I was enjoying it, his total shock, the way he looked at me. All of it.

I couldn't help but smirk at him. "My clothes don't seem so bad now, do they?" I said softly, my hand on my hip.

He raised an eyebrow. Not fair; I couldn't do that. He slid a hand into his pocket, smirking slightly. I gulped as he made his way towards me. His body was so close to mine, I could feel the heat radiating off him. Or was that me? I looked down at the thin line seperating our torsos, not crazy enough to look up at him directly.

"No, they don't." He whispered, his breath warm against the side of my face. This was a bad idea. All of this. This wasn't fun anymore. It was scary and weird, and unknown territory. My heart should not be hammering against my chest like this. My mind should not be clouded like this. My breathing should not be so erratic, my body so warm, or my face so red. Especially not because of _him._

Confession 11: But they were. Every single part of me was being affected by our close proximity.

I felt his fingers slide into my hair, my eyes still fixed on the carpet. "But, your hair, on the other hand, does." He finished as he slid the hairband out of my hair, letting my locks spill down past my shoulders. He stepped back and around me towards the door before I had any idea what was going on.

I turned back to him, eyeing him suspiciously as my hair tickled my bare skin. He smirked. "Better," And then he was opening the door and stepping out.

After shaking my head to come back to my senses, I grabbed my house keys and walked out, locking the door behind us.

But not before glancing at myself in the hallway mirror.

Confession 12: He was right. It _was_ better.

* * *

_Finally finished. Took up nearly half of my day, but I haven't checked it over, so there might be grammatical errors or spelling errors or both. Sorry. _

_Coming up next, dinner & questions. It's basically when you guys find out everything and anything about everyone, especially these two. _

_Review, maybe? They sure as hell make me type faster. _


	3. Dinner Time

_It feels so good to be back. Sorry about the insanely late update; it's been exam week at school. Really sorry. And this website stopped me from updating anything for a week, so BLAH. But now, I'm FREE. Halla-freakin'-lujah. I swear not to be so late next time. _

_This story is so incredibly fun to write, and your awesome reviews have me typing like there's no tomorrow. Thank you so much for the positive response I got for the latest chapter. Especially the reviews. They make me all giddy and akjsdlsajk - and even I don't know what that means. I just love every single one of them. Special thanks to: **Serpent of Darkness, Mst0180, l0stinl0ve, Dulcemaria413, chupeechan, Sleep and Dream, Indigo Grey, lovely, ObsydianDreamer, CajunWitch, allilovee, Blueberry popsicles, NefeliMalfoy, calimocho & anon.**_

_**Questions;  
Are you going to do any chapters from Draco's POV?** - Hmm, I'm not sure about that one. It'll definately be fun to try a few chapters from his perspective, but I have a feeling it might ruin the flow of this story. It's not that I don't want to - I SO do - ; I'm just still thinking about it. I'll definately tell you if I was to do so. Thank you for the question. :)_

_Read&Review, please._

_Yours truly,_  
_- LiveLoveLaugh._

* * *

It was pouring outside.

So I decided to point it out as we stood outside the doors to my building, under the small roof protecting us from becoming drenched. "It's _pouring_."

I could practically hear his eyes rolling, even over the sound of the water pattering against the cobblestones. He turned the collar of his blazer up against the chill. "No shit, Captain Obvious."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "Shut it, Sergeant Sarcasm."

That was pretty witty, if I say so myself.

He smirked as he walked out into the rain and stopped an oncoming black taxi. He turned back to me through squinted eyes. His hair was soaked within two seconds flat and I watched as the raindrops dripped from the tips of his brown locks. I smiled at him a moment, taking in the sight of Draco Malfoy standing in the pouring rain, holding a taxi door open for me. It was a perfect Kodak moment. Somehow the rain, the smell of the rain, the sound of the water splashing against the parked cars and streets, and the gentlemen-ly act he had going on, made him seem...ugh, no. Not going there.

And, you know, it was nice letting him wait out there, in the pouring rain.

Mwahaha.

He shouted at me from the street, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "Get the hell in...Comrade Comeback?" He finished with a raised eyebrow.

I smiled to myself before sprinting it into the black cabby. I slid into the far window seat, and watched as Malfoy slid in after me, shutting the door after he did so. He shook his head like a puppy, and droplets flew everywhere. When he looked back at me, I felt myself reaching out to him, tugging the sleeve of my coat past my palm and wiping the water away from his face. He was looking at me intently, with those translucent grey eyes and I was almost sure he was leaning into my touch. My fingers went up into his hair, brushing drops of rain off the strands...

Oh my Godric. What was I _doing_?

I yanked my hand back suddenly. That was way too affectionate for my liking. I didn't...I really...fuck, I...NO. That did not just happen. No, I refuse to believe it. Shut up! It didn't happen, O-sodding-K?

What do you mean it happened? I have no recollection of an event which involves me touching Malfoy's soft hair and liking the feel of it between my fingers.

GASP.

Please Lord, let whoever is reading this have short term memory loss.

"Uh, uh, I-" I blurted out mindlessly. I took a deep breath and tried again. "Rain."

FACEPALM.

Don't ask.

Just. Don't.

So, after slapping myself mentally for the lack of wittiness I possessed, I noticed him duck his head ever so slightly, trying to hide the flash of a grin on his face.

"Where to?" I heard the cabbie driver call back at us.

Malfoy smirked at me. "You choose Granger. Chinese? Turkish? Indian?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Uh, Indian, I guess."

"Wrong answer." He rolled his eyes.

"I thought you said it was my choice." I retorted.

"Yes, but your choice was wrong. Not a good Indian restaraunt for miles." He held up his iPhone, and flashed a colourful map with only a handful of red dots scattered here and there.

I read the title aloud incredilously. "Spice Finder?"

He shrugged. "There was a sale at AppWorld."

I sighed, trying to hide my smile. We did that a lot. Hide our smiles from eachother. "Chinese, then."

"That's better," He leaned forward. No, not towards me! Towards the driver. No, not like that! To tell him to go to a chinese restaraunt in town, you hormonal muggle.

The rain pattered against the windows, and England was as grey as ever. But then again, it wasn't grey at all.

Not since Malfoy was sitting next to me, whipping the remaining raindrops off his hair onto my face on purpose, chuckling and making me do the same.

* * *

What. A. Bitch.

She kept looking at him, occasionally twirling a lock of hair around her finger, or smiling flirtatiously in his direction. She was meant to be a sodding professional, but her skirt was hiked up way too high, and her shirt unbuttoned way too much to be a professional of any sort.

And I swear on Merlin, she was breaking International Waitress Law, Section Twelve, Law Twenty-eight: Do not - on any sodding occasion - look at Malfoy like you want to shag him.

Yes, that's a real law. And yes, it's punished by execution, before you ask. What was that? Why do I care whether or not someone flirted with Malfoy? Because...well, because...Oh, stuff the questions, nosy parker. I don't have to tell you everything.

I unintentionally - don't laugh, I'm being honest, - glared daggers at her perfect, blemish free, smooth looking porcelain face. She completely ignored me, and stared right at Malfoy as he skimmed through the menu.

He put the laminated menu down before looking up at the Bitchtress. Get it? Bitch + Waitress = Bitchtress. Hehe. I'm funny. "We'll take a Half Crispy Aromatic Duck for starters," He looked at me. "Yeah?"

I was still staring at the waitress. Did I even exist to her? I waved his question away, agreeing with a, "Uhuh."

He continued, smirking at my reaction. I heard snippets of his order - there was something about rice and chicken in there somewhere. My main focus was on the muggle which looked as if she was trying to decipher the colour of his underwear. I heard him clear his throat. After ripping my gaze away from the waitress, I turned it to his face. His hair had dried and looked messier than ever, and his eyes were sparkling...evilly. Or sexily, whichever way you want to look at it, really.

He looked at me expectedly. I sputtered for an order as the waitress turned to me begrudgingly. "Oh, right." I started, and then quickly scanned through the menu of the Golden Dragon. I picked my favourite chinese meal, Chicken Chow Mein.

She scribbled down our orders. I watched as she turned back to Malfoy. "No problem, Mr...?"

Oh, she _did not_ just slip that in there. That's like the oldest shit in the book.

He smiled politely and fakely. Or that's what I wanted it to be. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"What a deliciously unusual name. I like it."

My tweet for the day: Kill me now.

I cleared my throat. She turned back at me. Finally. "I'm sorry; didn't you have something to do?" That sent her on her way with a hurried, "Oh, right, sorry, Miss."

Malfoy was smirking at me from across our table. I narrowed my eyes at him. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just watching as you become positively green with jealousy."

"I'm not jealous."

"Oh, please, you're greener than grass."

Was he crazy? Why would I - of all people - be jealous of someone flirting with Malfoy - of all people - after five years of having nothing to do with him whatsoever.

I rolled my eyes. "Psht. I'm like...grass during winter. White and not green at all."

He laughed at me then; the prat.

Can you say _lame_?

No, not _liar_.

Lame. Say it with me now. _La-ame._

* * *

"So, Malfoy-" I started, picking up my chopsticks.

"-Draco." He interjected.

I couldn't help but smile. He was good at doing that, making me smile unintentionally. I paused a moment, letting my mind adjust to using his first name. "So, _Malfoy._" Yeah, it was _hard_ adjusting. He smirked. "What have you been doing these five years since Hogwarts?"

"Long story."

"I have time."

"Yeah, I guess you do." He smirked, then sighed. "Well, I did the Malfoy thing for a year. You know, sitting around, spending my inheritance, hexing elves as a hobby." I nodded, knowing it all too well. "But for some reason, I got tired of that. So, I did the unexpected. I let Zabini drag me to Muggle London. He'd just broken up with this chick, or something. So, I started to re-do my life. I bought a company. With a few tweaks and adjustments to the business and the lazy-arse workers, I got the place up and running." He paused. "Huh. I guess it's not that long of a story after all."

I was shocked. He was a business man? "What, I mean, what-wh-what company?" I stuttered lamely, confused. Don't ask why I was stuttering, it was just too much information to handle. He was not just a muggle. He was a MUGGLE MUGGLE. A MUGGLE MUGGLE WITH A BUSINESS AND MONEY AND STUFF.

He was pleased with my reaction. "Pheonix Industries, you heard of it?"

My mouth was gaping, and suddenly dry. This had to be some practical joke. I always saw them on the news, on the business channel, in the papers. They'd been rising on list of Richest Businesses every time I picked up the latest edition of The Times. "Ph-Ph-pheonix Industries? Jesus Christ, you're kidding me."

"I assume you have, from _that_ reaction." He took a bite out of his chicken, so bloody normal about this. "You like the name? It was called something muggle and boring when I bought it. Pheonix kind of magic-s it up a bit, you know?

"Malfoy, you're not serious. You are _not_ the billionaire owner of Pheonix Industries."

"No, I'm the Millionaire owner of Pheonix Industries, actually." He chuckled. "Let's not get carried away, here."

I threw a piece of chicken at him. He dodged it. Ugh. "I don't believe this."

"Then don't believe it."

"This is not the Draco Malfoy I remember."

"Nah, this one's sexier."

"Would you be serious for one bloody minute?"

"Depends. Will you let me finish my five years?"

"Fine."

"Right; so CEO and owner. Pheonix Industries. Brown hair. No long term relationship in _a while._ That's pretty much it." He looked me over after eating a bit more. "You're not doing it right."

I was too busy being shocked to realise what he was on about. I blinked at him.

"Your sticks. You're not holding them right." He explained. I looked down at my hand to see that it was in the most retarded position possible.

I heard him chuckle huskily, and when I looked back up, his face was much closer to mine than it had been two seconds ago. I stared at him as he grasped my fingers with his. He rearranged their position while my eyes darted from his face to my hand which was being brushed by his. I could practically feel said hand getting just a bit warmer.

Before I knew it, the warmth left my hand as Malfoy let my hand go, now in the correct position. He settled back down into his seat.

"What about you, Granger?"

"Hermione," I corrected automatically, raising an eyebrow.

He gave me a small smile that made my stomach flutter. "Granger,"

"Fair enough." I looked down at my food to hide my smile. I continued to finish my Chow Mein before answering him. "Not much. Well, definitely not as much as you. I worked in the Ministry for a couple of years. But that was-"

"-Utter shite?"

"Put frankly, yes. Uh, after that, I worked in the bookstore near my house. But it wasn't getting in that much money, so it closed down. Oh, I know. I was in for a job interview when I got called into the Ministry to get married to you." I glared at him.

He smirked. "How inconvenient,"

"Which reminds me; you owe me compensation."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what if you didn't get the job?"

"Let's not get carried away here." It felt nice to one up him.

He smiled, just a bit, but absolutely genuinely. It was certainly overwhelming to know that I was the one to make him do that.

"Tell me about Weasley Wanker."

I grinned. "Huh, Malfoy. I didn't know you swung that way."

He choked on his rice. I snickered as he looked up at me. "Quite a Slytherin tongue you've got there."

"Should I be flattered or insulted?"

"Flattered. That has to be the nicest thing I've ever said to someone."

"Flattered, it is." I concluded. "Oh, right, Ronald. Erm, I don't know what to say, really. It seemed logical to be together, you know? Like you and Pansy?"

"Good Lord, don't remind me." He shuddered. "You know that bitch still stalks me?"

I cracked up at that. Then carried on. "Good for her. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. He was fine near the beginning. But the fame kind of got to his head. He started acting like a total idiot."

"_Started_?"

I ignored him. "It got to the point where I just wanted to throttle him senseless, so I gave up and told him to do so too. He didn't listen; he thought we just needed some time alone. I somehow agreed, and avoided him for quite a while. And then it was over."

"And since then?"

"No one, really. I don't have much time for a boyfriend."

"Right; but you have enough time to read and re-read those cement blocks you call books?"

"Yes, yes I do."

Books never hurt you, unlike men.

Unless you got a papercut. That stings.

Or if one dropped from your high bookshelf and hit you on your head. That bruises.

Okay, okay. Books _can_ hurt.

* * *

"Remember when I punched you?"

He paused almost discreetly. But I noticed, and smirked. "No."

"Oh, really? Third year? My fist, your nose?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I was wondering. Has your pride ever recovered from that?"

"It's never been tarnished."

"Not even when you got hit by a girl?"

"Will you _shut up_, already?"

I laughed at his embarrassment.

He was cute when he got embarrassed.

...

...I'm joking of course.

It was totally payback for the grass thing.

* * *

"And you made Zabini _do_ that...in _public_?" I gasped out between the breaths I managed from my hysterical laughter.

"What can I say? The man worked those coconuts."

That was funny. Truly.

_He_ was funny.

Oh, _why_ did he have to be so funny? It was making it so much harder to hate him.

The restaraunt was almost empty now, with a handful of customers lingering here and there other than us. The Bitchtress still loitered. She would even walk past our table a few times every ten minutes, smiling at Malfoy or throwing me a thinly veiled dirty look.

But I honestly didn't care. I was enjoying myself way too much.

_Beep-beep-Beeeep. Be-be-be-beep. Bee-Beeeep. _

I sprung into action and rummaged through my bag, trying to find my damn phone.

_Be-bee-beeeep. Beep. Be-beeeep._

I'd swear to Merlin I put it in the zipped-up section...

_Beeep. Bep. Beep-Bep-Be-Beep. Beeep._

"Is that Morse Code?" I heard Malfoy ask from across me. "Seriously, Granger?"

I looked up at him. "You know Morse Code? What a muggle thing to know."

He raised his eyebrow. "I know enough to know that that was "You have a text"...more or less."

"Show off." By then, my gaze had switched back to my bag, where all I could see was black lining, a bunch of reciepts, a lipstick, a mirror, a box of tictacs and a gift card for Waterstones.

"It's what I do." He replied cockily.

...and a glowing screen near the corner, under my purse. There it was! I found it!

It was from Ginny. Weird. I scanned through it a couple of times before trying to think up a lie. I could just not answer, pretending to be asleep. Or answer, pretending to be angry and awoken from my sleep.

_Hey, it's me. You awake? _It read.

I quickly texted back. _Sorry, Gin. Can't talk. _

I looked back up at Malfoy, opening my mouth to continue our conversation. But, of course, I couldn't. The reply came quicker than I'd expected. _Ooooh, awake, are we? Reading a book or hot date tonight? Don't bother texting back. I'm ringing you. _

Oh, shit.

And as she promised, she called me within the next five seconds. I pushed my chair back and stood up with my mobile in my hand. I looked over at Draco who was looking at me quizzically. I smiled apologetically. "Excuse me for two minutes?"

"Sure."

I hurried off to the ladies room, where I picked up my phone with an exasperated, "What?"

"Ooh, someone's snappy. Did I just interrupt you_ getting some_?" Came the cheeky response.

"What? No! Shut up, Ginny!."

"Where are you, anyway?"

"Er...home."

"Liar. Where are you really?"

"...It's really not that important-" Telling her will ensure years and years of torment. And years. And YEARS.

"I'm waiting."

"Well. You'll have to keep waiting, then."

"Sweetie, I have unlimited minutes on this phone for a month. The ball's in _my_ court."

"Ball? What ball?" I tried diverting the route this conversation was going to take. It's not that I was embarrassed about having dinner with Malfoy, far from it actually. I was just o damn sure that I would never hear the end of this. She would tease me about it till I died. Heck, it'll probably be written right there on my gravestone. _Hermione Granger. Died from never ending torment about a dinner acquaintance._

Oh, screw it.

"EatingdinnerwithDracoMalfoy." I rushed out all in one breath, silently praying that she wouldn't have me say it again.

"Come again?"

I gritted my teeth. "Eating. Dinner. With...Draco Malfoy."

There was a pause.

And then all hell broke loose.

"WHAT? You-Y-You- WHAT? Draco? Draco Malfoy? From Hogwarts? Dinner? What the fuck? I don't even-Ow! Son of a BITCH! Damn it, my foot! Fuck you, table! What did I ever do to you? Good God, that hurts."

I waited for her to finish.

"Fuck that. ARE YOU CRAZY? AM I CRAZY? IS HE CRAZY? No offense. BUT, REALLY? I DON'T BELIEVE THIS. WHY? WHERE? WHAT? WHEN? THANK YOU LORD FOR THIS AMAZING NIGHT. Tell me EVERYTHING. Everything. Wait, no. Shut up. I-I- mind explaining 'Mione?"

I rolled my eyes, put my phone on loudspeaker, set it down next to the sink and gripped the counter. "Promise not to interrupt until I'm finished?"

"Yes! Now say it, damn it!"

"Alright. But I'm only saying this once."

"Well, in that case, let me get a pen and paper."

I sighed. There was some shuffling and the sounds of drawers being yanked open and closed.

And then she was back on the line. "Begin."

* * *

I'd rather not talk about the almost deafening conversation with Ginny. In a nutshell, in consisted of screams, curses and hurt eardrums. Mine, to be exact. Especially when I told her about the prophecy. Good God, that caused one heck of a reaction.

But, surprisingly enough, she had called me lucky. Me, being me, had asked why incredilously. She said it was because I was going to marry the sexiest guy who went to Hogwarts. I told her that she was bloody mental, but she didn't see sense. I should never had told her about his hair. His glorious, messy-on-prupose, halo-like hair.

Yeah; so I ended up talking about the almost deafening conversation with Ginny.

Shit happens.

When I got back outside, Malfoy was paying the bill. I stomped up to him with my purse held between two fingers. "I can pay my half."

He looked up at me and smirked. "Sure you can. But I've got this."

"I don't need your money." I was suddenly pissed. Not angry. Not mad. Pissed. "I can take very good care of myself, thank you."

The smirk hadn't left his face. In addition to that, there was this mischevious, almost childish twinkle in his eyes. He stood smoothly, and slid his hands into his pockets. "Do you always get angry so easily?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean-I-yes-no, not-" I sputtered lamely for a reply. I started over, after taking a deep, calming breath. "The point is that I'm a big girl now, if you hadn't noticed. I don't need the help of some dashing, rich...prince wannabe."

He had ushered the waitress over. "Oh, I've noticed." I heard him mutter.

Oh. Well. Huh.

I didn't say anything to that. I wanted to be all "EXCUSE ME?" and stuff, but that would have just gotten me even more flustered than I already was.

"Now, come on, let's get out of here. The car's waiting outside." He told me. "Unless, of course, you have some sort of comeback planned?"

"I'll spare you the humiliation, this time." I replied, eyeing the Bitchtress who was still lingering near our table, even after taking away the bill. Malfoy followed my gaze and shot a smirk at her, making her swoon and me nearly gag. He definately did that on purpose. Just to get to me.

I shot her a wink as we left.

She glared.

I won.

* * *

"We have exactly four weeks, a month, before we have to get married."

I turned my gaze from the window to the blonde sitting next to me, in the back seat of a black cabbie, though a good distance away. I nodded slowly, comprehending.

He continued, not needing a response. "The prophecy didn't say that we had to get married straight away. The Ministry did. I read the scroll; it said that we would have to get married within the next month. Yeah, it was_ that_ specific. But, it said nothing about us having to get married straight away. We just have to try and not kill each other until then. But, we have to live together. The Ministry will definately be checking up on us. "

"So you want me to live with you for one month, as your...roommate?"

"_Want_ is such a strong word. More like, _believe it to be the logical way into this_."

"...It'd be pointless to argue with logic, won't it?"

"Very."

"Fine. I guess there's no harm in easing into this nightmare slowly."

"Ah, the enthusiasm."

Sue me for not being Jolly Mc'Jollykins.

Actually, scratch that. Don't sue. I'm unemployed.

* * *

_How was it? Good? Bad? Long-ass? Short-ass? Yeah. I've run out of adjectives. -_-_

_Love you guys. Will love you more if you review?...She asks hopefully._


	4. Plan MSIDDSSAFUMLFAE

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Everything but the plot belongs to JK Rowling.

I have to be honest with you guys. I must. Now or never. Okay, *breathes deeply.* Here goes; I have no freaking idea where this story is going. Seriously. I don't have a plot, or any plans for this. Well, not exactly a plot. Just an idea, sort of. I am literally just going with the flow. I seem to work better that way. So, yeah. Just thought you should know that I'm making this up as I go along. :T

Based on the amount of reviews and the content of those reviews, I guess you guys are liking it so far, which is awesome. Urm, I'm going to actually umph up the story a bit and make it slightly dramatic. Ever so slightly. Their relationship isn't going to be like "Hey, I've known you for, like, twenty minutes, and you're really attractive. Let's have sex right away." Yeah, no. It's gonna' be a GRADUAL - but not too slow or even slow, period, _I hate those long-ass, takes forever to get to the bloody point stories_ - build up and it's going to be realistic. I know, fanfiction + realistic = boring. But, I have taken up the mission of making that untrue. But, no worries, you'll still get your doses of Dramione regularly.

A very big thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter; **RhapsodyInBlue-Equus, tHevoLtuRi'SdARkpRiNceSS, Issie96, GoldenPheasant , ohsobrilliant, Keena 69...(er, 69. LOL. MY IMMATURITY)**

An even bigger thanks with whipped cream and sprinkles and cherries on top to my regular reviewers, who have pretty much read all of my Dramione stories. Love you guys; **Indigo Grey, SerpentOfDarkness, LadyBalencia, dulcemaria413, NefeliMalfoy & hgraham.** ;)!

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

"Thou art to me a delicious torment." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

* * *

...

So, yeah, okay, alright. I've made myself a plan. A plan for the rest of my life, of course. What else would I make a plan for -

Godric, I'm talking to myself again, aren't I? No, don't answer that. There I go again!

Right; my plan. I call it Plan-make-sure-I-don't-do-something-stupid-and-fuck-up-my-life-forever-and-ever. Or Plan MSIDDSSAFUMLFAE, if you will. So this is how it goes:

1. Stay away from Malfoy.

2. Stay as far away AS HUMANELY POSSIBLE from Malfoy while living under the same roof.

3. Act civil to-_yes, you guessed it_-Malfoy.

4. Enjoy the lack of consequences for steps 1,2 and 3.

5. Repeat.

And that's pretty much it. Genius, no?

So as my mind figured out this foolproof, master plan, Malfoy sat next to me in the back of the cab. Quite close. Too close for comfort, really. It was actually ruining step one and two of Plan MSIDDSSAFUMLFAE, and we all know those were the most important ones. I looked out of the taxi window, wanting the night to end quickly. It was such a nice night, too nice of a night to be caused by Malfoy.

And it was after_ such_ a_ long_ time.

I mean, don't even get me started on how my life has been so far. After the war, it's been pressure, pressure, pressure. From my so-called friends, from the Wizarding community - it's why I left, really. Why I'm even in Muggle England.

You'd think that once a wizarding war had been over and done with, everything would be rainbows and fairy dust.

Haha. Well, you'd be wrong.

After the war, especially during last year in Hogwarts, it was anything but heaven on earth. It was...different, to say the least, during the first term. The Gryffindors would _start, yes start,_ fights, the Slytherins - the ones that actually bothered to show up - wouldn't cause_ any_ pranks or shenanigens, the Hufflepuffs started _lieing_, and a Ravenclaw almost_ failed his test_. But that was only the first term, to be fair. After a while, everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with the weight of the losses of our loved ones of the war on our shoulders. The war had made everyone sullen, drained, somehow. It was almost a relief for me when I graduated.

Funny, that. Who would've thought Hermione Jean Granger, the Brightest witch of her age, the dedicated lover of books and quills was _relieved_ to finish her education? Well, not me, that's for sure. And especially since-

A very vigilant part of my mind suddenly gave the rest of my mind a bitch slap; = RED ALERT. RED ALERT.

I suddenly noticed the buildings the cabbie was passing, almost certain that I had no idea where we were.

"W-wait; this isn't the way to my building." I told Malfoy, who looked as if he couldn't care less. I watched as the cabbie drove further down the street, taking no turns anytime soon. I clutched my bag, wondering if I still had that pepperspray I got for my eighteenth birthday from my dear dad in there. I leaned closer to Malfoy, my head turned so I could watch the back of the driver's head. "Malfoy." I whispered.

He was doing something on his phone, the idiot. I rolled my eyes and whispered harsher. "Malfoy. Listen, you ferret-tailed ferret head."

That got his attention. He turned to me, only to end up making our faces just that much closer. I leaned back slightly, discreetly. Okay, fine. Un-discreetly. 'Cause, you know? I'm a master of discretion.

I just realised. I should be hired as the Queen of Sarcasm. I would get _paid_ for being _hilariously sarcastic. _People would come to me for sarcastic comments, not advice. I would get a crown. A sarcastic crown.

On another ranting note; I hated my cheeks for heating up at the "close proximity" - I find that an amusing phrase, - and my blood for rushing up to them. Damn my traitorous body.

He raised an eyebrow. "Ever heard of growing up?" His tone was light enough for me not to be insulted. He was kidding. Good, because my hands were already fisted and ready to throw a punch when needed.

I glared at the twat. "Ever heard of listening when someone's calling you?"

He scoffed. "Ever heard of-"

"-No." I held my hand up, palm out to stop him before a tennis match commenced. "Shush. This is important. Now listen..." I couldn't help it. "...with those small ferret ears."

He rolled his eyes. "My ears are perfectly sized, for your information. As is the rest of my anatomy." He raised a suggestive eyebrow. "If you want a visual aid, I wouldn't mind-"

"I would mind." I glared as hard as I could. "You think you're so perfect? Did Mr Perfect know that the dodgy driver is kidnapping us, taking us to the shitty part of town so he can kill us and sell our kidneys to canniballs? Did you?" I whisper-freaked, talking like a madwoman.

Malfoy laughed.

Actual laughage. Or chuckleage. Whichever one is deeper, huskier, sexier enough to make my heart do a stupid summersault. You know, heart, if I didn't need you to live my life as Queen Sarcasm, I would kill you.

My glare turned grimmer. "What are you laughing at? I'm serious. This isn't the way to my house. I have no idea what the neighbourhood even is." I looked out of the window. "Oh my God. We're on the motorway. The fucking motorway, Malfoy! My house is ten minutes from the Chinese Restaraunt. Ten. Not seventy!"

He was still laughing, the ferret. I gritted my teeth, almost on the edge of allowing my fists to bruise skin. His skin. His face skin. Malfoy gasped for breath, "Wait, wait." But, obviously, he just had to burst into laughter again, since our deaths were just so funny to him. I waited a few more moments, the patient Hermione trying very hard not to throw him out of the moving car. He looked me straight in the eye, his lip quivering as if he were trying to hold back more laughter. Amusement was as evident in his gaze as annoyance in mine. "Say, Granger. Don't you think taking us back to my place would be a stupid place to kill and dissect us?"

WAIT. JUST, WAIT A SECOND.

THE FUCK?

...So he was in on it too.

"I have pepper spray." I blurted out, internally smacking myself afterwards. Never give plans away to the enemy!

He shook his head, smiling. It would have been cute if I wasn't worried that he was going to murder me in a dark alley way somewhere. Also, if I didn't hate him.

"Calm down, Gryffindor, I have no interest in raping you. Or touching you. Why would I even want to?"

"You are seriously not helping this situation." I gritted out.

"Right, well. I told the guy to take us up to London. He's not a canniball meat supplier."

"You are scariest one in this car, right now."

"Flattered, really." He smirked. "You don't have sheets or any arrangements to sleep at your...lovely apartment tonight. You've packed everything."

"I can unpack stuff. I'm not incapable."

"Ha, you actually think this is about you. I really couldn't care less where you sleep, but I could care less about the fact that I'm going to have to get you tomorrow. You'll just move in today, I'll have your suitcases sent by tomorrow morning."

Well, that was unnecessary.

Two could play the jerk game.

"And what makes you think I actually want to sleep at yours tonight?" I attempted my best elevator eyes at him. "I'd rather avada myself."

He smirked. "As much as I would love that; I'm obliged to stop you. Being the chivalrous, charming prince I am."

"And you think I'm the damsel in distress? Well, let me tell you something Prince Charming, I have no interest in being rescued. Just take me back to my clean, little shit hole and we can both go on with our lives." ...Not really. We WERE going to get married.

"Granger, do you have to fight with me on everything?" He was still smirking, as if this was amusing to him. He was infuriating!

"How else do you expect me to cope with this?"

"So you argue when you're getting married?"

"I don't know! It's the first time _I'm getting_ married!" I suddenly burst. "And it's to someone I haven't seen in five years. And even if I had, I'd have hated him. Not that I don't now. I hate you all the same. I just can't believe this is even happening." I was rambling, but I didn't care.

"And you think it's not the same for me? I'm getting married to a Mudblood Gryffindor I've spent all of my life hating. Just because I haven't been a PMSing bitch, doesn't mean I'm not as freaked out as you." He retorted. There was one part of my mind which knew how annoying, how stupid I was being. A PMSing bitch, - to quote Malfoy. I should have stopped and apologised right then, but I had just as much pride as the next guy.

And, well, he called me a Mudblood, and eventhough I was used to that, I wanted to throttle him for it. I hadn't heard the insult in years, living in the Muggle world.

"Don't even try and turn this around on me." I hissed. Damn, I was such a girl. I wish I could kick myself.

He looked at me incredilously. "Turn this around on you? Do you hear yourself, right now? It takes two to get married, Granger."

"Oh, really? Because with your ego and love for yourself, I think you can get married to yourself."

"Oh, haha. I'd rather _Crucio_ myself than marry you at will."

"I'd rather get married to a homeless, herpes inflicted, imaginary guy than marry you at will." I scowled at him.

He sighed. "You know, I'm going to be the mature one here, and let you rant on like a bloody teenager."

"Oh, shut up."

"Oooh, burn. I'm wounded Granger, really. I think I might need to call the paramedics for this injury."

"I hate you."

"Well let me assure you; the feeling's mutual." He leaned just a bit closer. And at that moment, I didn't care. I was too angry at everything, and too busy taking all my anger out on Malfoy.

"Good."

He scoffed. "Good."

"Fine." God, that was lame.

He knew it too, but found it suitable. "Fine."

I huffed, crossed my arms over my chest and looked back out of the window. I could hear the cabbie laughing, at us probably. He looked at us through the rearview mirror. "Is that anyway to talk to your lass, mate?"

Draco scowled. He said "She's not my lass." at the same time I clarified, "I'm not his lass."

The cabbie smiled, "Not yet, ya' mean. The sexual tension in this car is driving me head in."

Once again, I said "Don't make me sick." at the same time Malfoy said, "I think I'm going to be sick."

Okay, conscience, before you start on how moody and crazy, and stupid I'm being, I have things to say in my defence.

Well, for one; I...obviously, I...and the...he was...I can't marry the guy!...but, ugh. Alright, the defence has offically struck out.

May the offence proceed: Well, Hermione. There isn't much to say. You just outdid yourself today. This is the guy who has been more than remotely nice to you, who has been calm and collected, who had the decency to take you to dinner. And this is how you repay him? By arguing with him like a spoilt brat? He's going through the same things as you, you know. You should give the guy a break. It's the least you can do.

Defense being defensive: The least I can do? And what has he done to deserve my least?

Offence: Oh, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. I wish you were as smart as you think you are.

Defense: I AM SMART!

Offence: Then do the smart thing and apologise. Now. Go on. Do it.

I opened my mouth to speak then, but it was as if my pride grew a hand, grabbed a stapler and snapped my mouth shut. We remained quiet for the rest of the drive. I was on the brink of going crazy, when I saw it.

Yes, it.

"Bloody hell, this place is...bloody hell." The driver awed. I nodded numbly when he turned back to look at us.

The building looked like a cross between the Buckingham Palace and Iron Man's cliffside mansion. It was a blend of modern and classic arcitecture, and I had no doubt believing that we were in central London. I was pretty sure I didn't speak for a whole two minutes. I stared at the..._wowza_ from inside the car, through the raindrop-covered windows. I would have awed, but I didn't want to attract attention to myself.

The back of my mind wondered whether or not he still owned or visited the Malfoy Manor. The thought had me shuddering.

Whatever the reason of his leave was, I was grateful.

The lobby on the ground floor was annoyingly bright. I had to blink repeatedly to adjust to the light. I was soaked as I stepped into it, my arms crossed over my chest. It was almost deserted, so I guessed that it was late. Malfoy nodded at the doormen, smirked at the pretty, fair woman leaning against a table, who smiled back seductively - not that I cared - and went directly to the lift. I followed, still angry. He punched in the 6 button on the lift.

Don't judge me when I say this, but the 6 reminded me of...the devil's number. Alright, you know what? Even I judge myself after that.

God Almighty, Christ in Heaven...fuck.

No, no, seriously. Holy, flying fuck.

Excuse my language and blasphemy. But...sweet Jesus, _fuck_.

I turned my head to Malfoy. He was smirking, but not looking at me. Surprise, surprise. I shrugged nonchalantly. "Kinda' small, don't you think?"

"Some of us like our abodes humble." He said coldly.

The double mahogany doors opened up into a huge - HUGE - living area. The colours were all dark, brown, black, navy blue, very manly. There was a black marble staircase with black glass railing to the side, which led upstairs, where I could see a dark grand piano, near the indoor terrace. What kind of apartment had two storeys? There was a huge flatsreen on the wall in the area of the curved, cushion covered leather sofas, the clear glass coffee table and the lazyboy. The TV had to be 50 inches, at least. There were cupboards on the floor by it, sleek and fashionable. By the flatscreen plasma, there were speakers and a Playstation, Blu-Ray player, and Kinect. Rich bastard.

There were bookcases on the wall, stacked with hardbacks. A doorless opening by the wall led into the hallway. That was pretty much all I could see, and I was almost sure that Malfoy wasn't going to show me anything tonight.

AROUND HIS HOUSE. NOT HIM. UGH. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, HORMONAL THOUGHTS?

He spoke finally, "Two bedrooms downstairs, three upstairs, bathrooms on both floors, uh, kitchen and dining room down here, library and study upstairs." My ears perked up at _library._ He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, library. You're gonna' be sleepng upstairs." And with that, he kicked off his shoes, and made his way up the stairs. I rolled my eyes and followed after him, eyeing the place as I went. It was really quite impressive.

But, you know. Not impressive enough to make me actually say it out loud.

* * *

I couldn't sleep.

I wanted to, obviously. I needed to escape from this whole situation, live in my dreams where nothing bad would ever happen.

But that just wasn't possible tonight. I was still wearing my soaked dress, my hair was damp and was pretty sure I was going to catch pneumonia. Malfoy didn't even give me a towel. Not that I can really blame him. I hadn't exactly been the nicest company.

After having a sneezing fit, I gave up on trying to fall asleep, and pulled my blankets off of me.

And then my stomach growled. I tiptoed across the room, running my fingers through my still damp hair. I turned the doorknob, flicked on the hallway light and made my way down the stairs. The marble floor was cold against my skin, making me shiver even more than I was.

The kitchen was absolutely beautiful once I'd slid open the double doors and turned on the lights. The female side of me - yes, I have one, - squealed at the polished, dark wood and sleek clear black glass as the openings of the drawers and cabinets. The whole place...looked untouched. I should've guessed. Of course he couldn't cook. At least everything was spotless and neat. There was a table-slash-counter thing in the middle of the Kitchen, where there were a couple of stools. Upon the marble counter lining the walls, were every technological thing you could imagine. From microwaves to electronic scales, and coffee makers.

But, all my stomach wanted, was food.

I walked over to the fridge, and opened it, to find myself staring at almost nothing. I groaned, and closed it before the cold air got to me. I slouched against the counter, tired and hungry, when I noticed a bowl of fruit on top of the table. I prayed that it wasn't plastic as I walked over to it.

I sighed as I bit into a very real apple.

Just then, someone walked into the kitchen. It was Draco, and he was surprised to see me. I continued eating my apple.

"Uh, hey." He spoke up, as he walked towards me, clad in grey tracksuit bottoms. That was it.

I almost choked on my apple.

He was shirtless.

Fucking shirtless, for Merlin's sake.

WHY. WHY WOULD HE DO THAT.

I could feel the heat rising up to my cheeks, so I looked away, at the wall hangings. "Hey." I pretty much whispered back.

He pulled the bowl towards him and picked up a green apple before tossing it up in the air and catching it with his other hand. I turned to look at him, attempting to apologise, but all that came out was, "You should really put on a shirt."

He smirked, nonetheless. "Is it distracting you, Granger?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "No. It's causing my dinner to come back up." I paused a bit, before looking at him in the eye. In those startling grey eyes which made my heart stutter for no damn reason. "Malfoy, I'm...I'm-I'm really sorry for earlier. I was being a bitch, and I shouldn't have said all the things I did. I-"

"-You look cold." He stated, his eyes roaming down my figure. "Granger, I didn't give you a towel, did I? Or some warm clothes?"

I didn't say anything. I was too shocked that he cared.

"Salazar, I'm a dick. Come on, let's get you into something warm." He glanced at the fridge. "I'll get some food tomorrow morning."

I smiled, nonetheless, and whispered, "Have you ever gone grocery shopping before, Malfoy?"

His tongue touched the top of his mouth. "...No."

I smiled wider. He rolled his eyes and started walking away. I followed, flicking off the kitchen lights as I left.

I looked back into the darkness before I slid the doors closed.

And it really wasn't all that dark.

I guess the demon's house wasn't all that demonic.

Funny, that.

* * *

Oh wow. VERY LATE UPDATE. Sorry, very, very, very sorry. :) I know this chapter is incredibly rubbish, but I just had to update. I've kept you guys waiting long enough.


	5. Settling In

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Everything but the plot belongs to JK Rowling.

So, hi.

*Ducks from flying objects*

Look, I know! I'm sorry, I swear I—

*Runs away from oncoming attacker*

Just—just read the thing—the really crappy chapter—

*Attacker raises a crossbow*

Please—I'm so sorry—_Christ_, don't hurt me—

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

I woke up three times before actually getting myself out of the too-soft-to-be-true bed.

The first time, I was thirsty. My mouth was dry and my throat threatened to close up on me. Eyelids half closed, I reached my arm out to the bedside table, where I usually kept my jug of water and glass. Surprisingly, my hand only touched the smooth hard wood of the unfamiliar bedside table.

Then I realised, I wasn't home.

I went back to sleep after that, trying to forget, to dream it all away. It worked. In fact, I dreamt of talking meerkats, and car insurance. Don't ask. Then, just the time after that, I woke up, my head killing.

It felt as though a Hippogriff had played hockey-pockey on my head during my slumber. I mean, really. It wasn't even hangover-headache, though I wouldn't know what that would be like.

Goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger, and all, you know?

I looked around the room. It was large, fairly larger than my old one. There was a wardrobe, a floor length mirror, a chest of drawers and a large TV on the wall by a small table and couple of brown leather chairs with cushions on. Truth be told, it was cold, the whole place seemed a little cold, empty. There was a huge-arse canvas behind the large-arse bed, on the wall above. The canvas was white and blank, begging to be painted or printed on. Not just that, but there were empty photo frames dotted around the walls.

I sighed, long and hard before looking under the silk covers to see myself in clothes what weren't mine. I was in this long sleeved, dark blue t-shirt. The hem reached mid-thigh, and the sleeves ended just past my fingertips.

I checked the flashing time on the alarm by the bed. 9:57.

"Jesus." I whispered, before pushing the covers aside and walking bare feet - floor being freezing cold, _ah_ - to the door. Creaking it open just a bit, I noticed my suitcases just outside the door, tucked against the wall. I quickly walked over to them, making sure he wasn't around to see me so exposed, pulled on the handle and rolled them back into the room.

My room.

My (?) room.

Let's just call it The Room. In The House. Yes? Yes. Good? Good. I saw something white and smallish flutter to the floor from the corner of my eye and kept the door open long enough to pick it up and take it into The Room with me. Yeah, it works fine.

_In the Study, if you need me. - D._

I firmly decided that I would never 'need him', only 'need to find him'.

* * *

After pulling on my knitted grey, slightly oversized sweater, dark blue jeans that were once skinny but weren't really any more and pulling my hair into a bun, I tried to make my way through The House. I think I wanted for about ten minutes before remembering that he'd mentioned that his study _was_ in fact upstairs.

The door was closed, and I had to mull over whether or not to knock or just enter. Knock, obviously, it being someone else's home and that someone else being an ex Death Eater. But then again, I was going to - dare I say it, - stay here for quite some time before I figured a loop hole out of this. He knew I was on my way here, he directed me. But. Ugh.

I knocked twice, before waiting patiently. I heard something along the lines of 'come in' from inside, the voice slightly muffled. Turning the handle, I walked in.

It was a beautiful study/office, with brown, wooden furniture like the desk and storage components and sleek black technological devices everywhere. There was a large TV on the wall facing his desk, and a Mac-book sitting on his desk. On the far side of the room, there were large black bookcases with vinyl records filling the spaces. Along the large windows, atop the window sills, there were a collection of wands and snitches assorted into some sort of order. Some seemed signed, the snitches I mean, and all seemed incredibly valuable. There were no pictures on his desk, or any art lining the walls. I spotted a few leather chairs around the room, and a fairly large glass table that he was currently at, his black leather desk chair out of the way.

Draco stood, hands braced on the edge of the table as he leaned down, staring intently at the many papers scattered across the work top. There were some folders open, some not, stacks of papers by his hand, highlighted and colour coded, and a pile of paper he was staring at. He flipped a page lazily, they were stapled together by the corner, so it just turned over to rest away from his gaze.

Draco had a pen in his hand that he would constantly twirl and the fingers he rested on the glass kept drumming to a rhythmic beat I just couldn't bring myself to despise.

"Morning." I breathed, not willing to close the door behind me as that may seem to intimate. I was slightly embarrassed to have woken up so late, when usually I'm up by eight.

He looked up at me under dark eyelashes, some of his perfect hair falling over his eyes and his head still bent low. I saw a smirk slowly tilt his mouth, and felt my nerves spark with the handsomeness of it all.

The Malfoy who didn't really look like a Malfoy at the time, was wearing a navy blue shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone. He had a thin leather bracelet on one hand, with some strings tied around various parts as well as a silver watch on the other hand.

"Morning," He replied, his voice as tantalisingly smooth as ever.

I blushed, and hated myself for it. Dammit, Malfoy.

He seemed amused by that, and turned back to his work. "Close the door, will you, Granger. It's fucking freezing in here."

The heating was on, I was nice and cosy on my whole route through The House, even if it was metaphorically _cold_. The temperature wasn't low, as I was concerned.

I did as told.

Then, I made my way over to him, my curiosity getting the better of me as I peered over to see what he was doing.

"These numbers don't add up." He told me, knowing me all too well for my comfort. He dragged his pen down the numbers he was referring to, and then started tapping a little louder. "Someone's embezzling money out of a top law firm. I'm trying to figure out who."

"That's not what you do." I blurted. I wasn't sure what kind of business Phoenix Industry was, but I was sure it wasn't a Law Firm, or Solicitors that helped with these issues.

He shrugged a little, unfazed. "I'm doing a favour for a friend, he's on the board and the only one who suspects an embezzler."

I was surprised he was telling me all this. It seemed like secret information not to be shared.

Draco continued. "And he's not wrong, either." Suddenly, banging a fist against the table, he groaned. "If only I could find the fucking sleaze before New Years."

I smiled a little. "Why are you telling me this? It's confidential, I bet."

He looked up at me, head and all. "You're going to be my wife, Granger. If I'm not mistaken, I'm meant to start _trusting_ you. At least, that's what they all tell me."

My smile became a little wider, and my cheeks blazed. _Wife_. He said wife and I practically swooned. I nodded in reply, and he went back to work for about a few more seconds before snapping his head up back to me.

"Granger. You're good with numbers, aren't you?"

I didn't follow.

He didn't wait for a response, only pushed himself off the table and gestured me to come closer and take a look. I did so, my eyes travelling from his shirt and the way it clung to the dips and bumps of his muscles on his torso when he moved to the printed text on the paper.

By the table, I looked down at the papers, my hair fell around my face, curtaining me from his heated gaze. I had to tuck a lot of my curly hair back behind one ear before I started huffing angrily.

My eyes darted from the sums to the total incomes, to the finance management and deposits which were accounted for. I could feel heat radiate off him as he came and stood close to me, looking over my shoulder, from a different angle.

"Can you make sense of it?" He whispered, his voice low and husky. I wanted to move away, away from the smooth voice and gorgeous hair.

Clogs and wheels were turning in my head. I nodded a little, not tearing my gaze away from the paper. "I think so. Here, you see that?" I gestured to a few lines I thought was important. "The money is obviously being taken out in parts. It's a consistent amount, too. Whoever did it, was either very stupid or very sure of himself."

He smirked down at me, obnoxious as ever. I could feel my rapid heartbeat drumming in my ears. What a twat.

"Interesting." He whispered. Something tightened in my chest. "But, I figured that out ten minutes ago."

Fucking twat, alright.

"Give me something good." He told me, his voice oozing with innuendo.

"Fine." I muttered, determined.

He was going to pay for that condescending tone.

After quickly gathering some more papers, highlighting main parts and using post-it notes to write down some notes, I had more intel.

Draco had moved away, now leaning against his desk, playing Angry Birds on his phone.

Ten minutes or so later, I smiled down at the table. "This was deposited into different accounts, different banks, and all around the country in fact. Whoever was the embezzler, they knew what they were doing. Maybe a history of fraud, in-depth planning?" I turned around to face him, crossing my arms victoriously. There was much more to the case, and I was incredibly intrigued, but this was more than he'd figured out.

He smirked at me, as if I was an interesting exhibit. "Now, that." He approached me.

I was going to burst.

He leaned in, our torsos touching ever so lightly. "Is impressive, Mrs Malfoy." He drawled the _Mrs Malfoy_ part, annoying me and exciting me to no ends.

"That's not my name."

"_Yet_."

I rolled my eyes, and pushed him away - slightly playfully as I was smiling. He stumbled back, smiling too.

My breath hitched. Merlin, that stupid, annoying, fucking adorable smile.

I turned away quickly, turning back to the papers. "Can I–" I started hesitantly.

"Knock yourself out."

* * *

I'd been sitting by the table for over an hour now, my mind reeling and challenged after quite a long time.

Malfoy would occasionally come by the table and look over my notes, giving a smirk or a raised eyebrow at a particular line. Whatever it was he was intrigued about, he didn't question it, and for that I was grateful.

It was about 11 am and the clock by the far wall continuously ticked, reminding me of the schedule I usually kept to. Quick breakfast, job hunting, book reading, lunch, more job hunting, more book reading, dinner. And important chores intertwined somewhere in between.

I was hungry, but I wasn't going to impose. I just silently prayed that my stomach wouldn't churn any time soon.

_"Amy has requested a Video Chat. Accept?" _The computer's loud, feminine voice scared me, making me jump and spin the chair around to see Malfoy chuckling.

"Priceless." He muttered, standing up from his seat and pressing a button on a small remote pointed at the TV on the wall.

A pretty girl with long, straight blonde hair and a bright smile appeared on the screen. She fluttered her freshly mascara-d eyelashes and leaned closer to the webcam. "Good morning, Mr Malfoy." Her lips were painted a bright red, and it annoyed me to no end. Why? I don't even know.

Draco barely looked at her, playing with a paperweight. "What is it, Amy?" His voice seem distant, bored. Or maybe that's what I _heard_.

Amy sighed a little, slumping in her seat. Her _barely_ professional purple shirt had a low cut neckline and was so tight I was surprised she could breathe in it. She looked down and read aloud some messages. She was his assistant, of course. And today, he seemed to be working from home.

I felt suddenly self-conscious.

Was he working at home because of me? I didn't want to change his life. I wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. Find a loophole or something.

Halfway through the messages, Draco interrupted her. "You want to get out of here for breakfast? I'm bloody famished."

I momentarily thought he was talking to Amy, and apparently she did too - her face seemed to brighten and her red-painted lips parted to speak.

"What, Granger? Not hungry?" He said, this time turning his head to smirk at me.

I gaped for a second before composing myself and replying. "I'm alright."

"Liar."

I rolled my eyes. Ugh, stupid Slytherin. How did they all know the ins and outs of lying? "Fine, just give me a few more minutes with this."

He was the one to roll his eyes this time. I realised that Amy couldn't see me through a webcam attached to the TV. That meant I was out of the picture, literally. No wonder she didn't seem shameful or bashful at the slightest.

"Draco–" She started, in a voice that was starting to become remarkably annoying. Draco quickly shot her a stern look, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. A silent e_xcuse me _hung in the air. And _she_ knew that, not even being in the same room. "I'm sorry, I mean Mr Malfoy."

I pursed my lips, trying not to smile.

"Should I continue with the messages?" She asked, her eyes searching for the woman with the feminine voice - me.

He thought for a moment. "Nah. Email me them, if you must. Otherwise, take the day off or something. I'll be busy all day, and probably be working from home for a while."

"You really don't need to do that, Malfoy–" I tried.

"Bullshit." He waved her argument away. He looked directly at Amy. "Oh, and expect an order for wedding invitations coming into the office in the next few weeks."

She gaped at the screen, her perfect white teeth flashing.

Again, I was in astonishment. What the _hell_, Malfoy?

"And we're not inviting those idiots you call friends, Granger." He finished, glancing at me, tossing his paperweight casually.

Amy was in utter shock. She already hated me. Not that I actually cared.

I threw a nearby highlighter at him for that comment, not willing to come into Amy's view and be ridiculed by the beautiful, model-like woman. Draco chuckled, dodged the flying object and disconnected the call.

"That was cruel." I commented, throwing another pen at him. I didn't realise when we reached the point where I could throw things at him playfully. He seemed so light and calm that I didn't feel nervous around him any more.

"Fine, woman. We'll invite them, don't get your knickers in a twist." He smirked at my blush.

He had no right to involve my knickers.

I clarified my earlier comment. "I meant with your assistant. That was cruel, to Amy."

Stupid name, that.

He raised an eyebrow. He leaned against the desk, feigning curiosity. "Cruel, you say? Enlighten me."

My eyes instantly rolled, as I got up and ran a hand through my hair, noticing Draco's eyes follow my hand with an odd darkness. What did that mean? Forget it, Hermione. It meant nothing, I know it.

"She's obviously in love with you, you dolt." I told him, crossing my eyes over my chest. "And you just told her that you're getting married. Practically the definition of cruel, in my mind. Besides, we're not even having a marriage ceremony."

"Amy?" He scoffed. "Not my type."

I couldn't stop the words tumbling out. "And what _is_ your type, Malfoy?"

"Good question." He smirked, and my heart annoyingly stuttered.

"Are you going to answer it?"

"It wasn't _that_ good."

I rolled my eyes, eyes darting to the papers once again.

* * *

"What?-no. We don't need _that_, Granger."

I paused in dropping the overly sized box of Cheerios into the trolley. I clutched it in mid-air, turning my head to stare incredulously at Malfoy. "You're kidding me, right?"

"They're called _Cheerios_, for Merlin's sake. I don't think, as a Malfoy man, I'm even allowed them."

I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to argue, when realising: 'Marriage was about compromise'. I sighed. Right, compromise, I can do that. "Fine," I said quite childishly, pushing the box back onto the high shelf and gesturing to the others that lined the aisle. "Take your pick."

"Not a fan of cereal." He told me, grinning mischievously. I knew he was doing it just to get to me, but I chose to take the high road and ignore him.

I merely gave him a tight smile and turned away swiftly, pushing the trolley ahead of me. "Pray tell, O' great one, what _are_ you a fan of?"

"I think _I_ top the list." His voice was close behind me, low and gravelly, sending shivers up my spine. I pushed the thoughts back and continued to the fruit section. Not even asking him about it, I tossed in a bag of green apples, cartons of grapes and strawberries, and a sack of oranges for good measure. I was on a roll for a while, referring back to my mental check list occasionally.

I sighed loudly, watching Malfoy approach me and lean against the wall beside me for a few moments. "Honestly, Malfoy, what do you want to eat-"

"-Oh, darling, look." I heard a loud, feminine voice come from the eastern direction. I turned my head just intending to spot the loud woman, not expecting her to come towards me, dragging her husband - was it? - by the elbow.

She smiled widely, eyes darting from myself to Malfoy. I stared back, confused. One hand was on the trolley subconsciously, while the other held a box of tub of ice-cream I was debating about (Milk or Dark?).

I took her appearance in within a matter of seconds, and suspected Malfoy did the same. Average height, warm eyes, flowing dark hair grown just past her shoulders and a large red coat reaching her knees. She looked about mid-fourties, and definitely of magical heritage.

When she spoke again, her voice was oozing with excitement. "Oh, John, aren't they just the cutest couple?"

I wasn't John, so I turned to see her husband, with a similar appearance - brown eyes, dark hair and quite a few inches on her. He smiled and nodded. "Why, honey, they remind me of us."

"I _know_." She agreed enthusiastically, still staring at me.

I sneaked a glance at Malfoy, who was trying hard not to laugh at my discomfort. Idiot. I put the tin down, and ran a hand through my hair. "Uh, hello...?"

Insert name here.

"Oh, how rude of us." Insert Name Here laughed. She extended her hand, but not for me to shake, but for her to place on my arm. "I'm Susan, and this is John."

"Um, right." I said slowly, wishing Malfoy would come to my aid. God, I was that desperate. But he did come up behind me, I felt him before I saw him. He snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.

He shook John's hand, smirking a little. "Draco." He tipped his head towards me. "And this is my fiancée, Hermione."

I tried to sneak out of his grasp, but he was too strong, and I wasn't going to make a scene. He knew it too, the bastard. I smiled as sweetly as I could, stomping on his foot discreetly. I heard something which was similar to a wince, and cheered inside.

Hermione: 1. Draco: 0.

"You two _must_ join us for dinner sometime."

Dinner? We could be serial killers, for Merlin's sake!

"Dinner, you say?" Draco said slowly, probably thinking of an excuse.

Now. Before this continues, let me tell you something about myself: I am a nice person that has a very hard time saying no. Just keep that in mind, alright?

I gave Susan and John a bright smile. "That sounds lovely. How does Saturday sound?"

His lips were suddenly by my ear, and my heart was instantly in my throat. "You're an idiot."

"_You're_ an idiot." I blurted.

"What was that, hun?"

"Oh, nothing. Just telling my fiance-dearest how much I—" I elbowed him subtly. "—love him."

"How adorable!"

Draco tried to breath next to me.

How adorable, indeed.

* * *

Do I deserve even deserve a review? Quite possibly not, but you readers are so selfless and compassionate...


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